#thr hobbit

[chronivore]

[estethell]

Thorin: Tell me about the Hobbit

Gandalf: Yes, I understand, it's a race you've never had the chance to get to know. You must know that Hobbits are very peaceful, they live in peace and agriculture, they raise livestock and…

Thorin: He's married?

Gandalf: ??

Thorin: Pure scientific curiosity!

[gandalf-the-fool]

Sleepwalking at midnight, pretending to be a hobbit, journeying to the fridge for a midnightses snack. The Desolation of the Cheese Drawer.

[queerlyloud]

Having spicy, unpopular, aggressively pro-Bilbo opinions tonight, but being a good fandom citizen by leaving them in the drafts

[matrose]

draw a thorin.. for me who is not done school and hasn't had time to do khazad week since day 2 :(

alternatively. bilbo with a human sized sword.

🫶 hope you dont mind that ive done my own designs based on the books instead of the movies 💓

[hermitshell]

Hold on. Why do Jimmy's homes in the life series always end up on fire at some point

[binch-i-might-be]

it will never not piss me off that the game of thrones/house of dragon "dragons" are just wyverns. girl where's their second pair of legs

[sketchingdead]

Lil bofur practice as I get back to drawing on paper

[thekingofwinterblog]

Tolkien's crowns.

You know something that really annoys me about the Tolkien movie adaptions?

Crowns.

Like a lot of things Jackson did, he basically crafted something completely new out of the bare bones we get from some descriptions, for better or worse, but the Crowns are another matter, because not only did Tolkien give very clear descriptions, and even drew the two most notable ones(the crowns of the dwarves and gondor)that appeared over the course of Lotr and the Hobbit, both had very, very clear cut meanings and symbolism behind them, that tied them to their real life origins.

The crowns of the dwarves of Erebor and Moria look like someone took their helmets and filed down the sides so only the skeleton remained, to varying degrees of success.

But you know what tolkien used?

In the books, Tolkien's dwarves uses crowns speciffically modeled after the crown of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire.

Why?

Well if you know anything about said empire, and the actual inspiration for Tolkien's dwarves, the picture is a bit clearer.

See Tolkien specifically modeled his dwarfs, their history of losing a homeland, desire for a new one, and their proud, industrious culture of craftsmen and skills of making money on a mixture between the Norse mythical dwarves, and the Jews in the long centuries after the Romans kicked them out of their original homeland.

Now with this in mind, Tolkien choosing to model the Dwarves crown on the Austrian one is him specifficaly choosing a real, Germanic crown as the inspiration... As well as a nod to the fact that the Austria-Hungarian empire was legendary for his time(The time Tolkien grew up in) as a progressive haven for jews, probably the best in Europe.

An empire, that was also destroyed by fires of war, just Moria and Erebor.

In other words, there is so much symbolism here that is completely and totally stripped away by the helmet crowns the movies gave them.

Hell, even the original hobbit animated movie got this right, while Jackson did not, as they basically just made the crown the austrian one, just a bit more exagerated.

Meanwhile, there is the crown of gondor, which completely missed absolutely everything tolkien tried to do with the Gondor crown.

It's a crown that fits perfectly with the rest of the city, this is truly a crown of the Gondor that the movies portrayed.

Meanwhile, Tolkiens Winged silver crown... Does not.

Even within the context of the fact that the books gondor is an early medieval(as it does not have plate armor at all) styled kingdom in terms of armor and clothing design, the crown does NOT fit in the slightest.

And that's the point.

The original crown of Gondor was a simple war Helm of the day that Elendil wore, and the later one that Aragorn wore was a more fancy replica of that helmet.

It is outdated by thousands of years, a relic of an elder time that was long lost even when Gondor's lost it's Kings in the first place. It's not supposed to fit in.

Also the fact that Elendil wore this, and it was considered just fine, tells us a lot about Gondor's fashion and style of arms during the closing days of the second age.

However, then we get into the deeper meaning behind the crown and where it was inspired from.

Gondor's winged crown was very deliberately inspired and based on the crowns of ancienct egypt, which was one of the main inspirations for Gondor and(to a lesser extent) arnor.

Just like Egyot there were two kingdom, an upper and a lower one, though in middle earth it was instead called the northern and southern ones.

Just like egypt, Gondor's entire socity and political and economic strength was based around their massive river that ran through the realm.

Just like Egypt, one of the biggest problems the gondorian elites had was their obsession with grand mousoleums and graves for their elites, focusing far more on the dead rather than their living children, and wasting who knows how much coin, manpower, energy and resources on such rather than just burying them in thr ground.

Basically the same problem egypt had building stupidly expensive superstructures for their dead in the form of pyramids, rather than something actually useful.

Then there is the fact that just like how lower and upper egypt combined their regalia together(as in they fused the two crowns into one, bigger one), Aragorn very deliberately made the royal regalia of the reunited Kingship BOTH his ancient and out of place winged crown, and the Silver scepter of Annuminas, the royal symbol of Arnor, combining the two of them together into one office.

[the---hermit]

New books for my English lit class.

21|09|2023

Today was my first day of in person class of this academic year. The day was an odyssey but at the end it was a good day. I was nervous to start again, as always, and my commute was very stressful. I got to town late and I ran to a bookstore to look for the two books I was missing for this class, and only found one. I got to uni in time, but almost got lost while looking for the lecture room. I spotted a couple of people in my class who I think might be queer but I didn't have enough courage to talk to them, maybe tomorrow I will try to start a conversation. I did chat a tiny bit with a girl who sat next to me, but no more than that. It's still great progress compared to last year where in my first in person class I felt frozen and terrified all of the time I could speak to people. The professor and thr class gave me a good impression. It will be quite challenging because the material's a lot (to be frank it's more material than an exam of this value should have in my opinion) but I am very intrigued and excited for this class. We will try to analize politics, religion and society through two Shakespears plays and Milton's Paradise Lost (if you have been reading my post for a while now you know I attempted to read it myself and then put it on hold but I am so happy to finally read it and work on it!!). The class ended early so I went to my favourite indipendent bookstore in the hopes they had the book I was still missing and they did! And I fell in love with that place again. I was tempted by another book but I didn't get it as at the moment I have another couple of books at the top of my wishlist. I really have to make an effort to prioritize going there instead to other bigger bookstore. I am kind of exhausted now but I plan on relaxing for the rest of the night and crocheting a bit.

Cozy hobbit autumn activities and productivity:

6 am morning routine

Read first thing in the morning

Made and packed lunch for the day

Lost myself watching the mist on the mountains as I waited for my bus

Walked around town to look for my books and to got to uni and back

3 hour English lit lecture

Daily practice of duolingo

Caught up with podcasts

📖: A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness, The Burning God by R.F. Kuang

[garden-variety-jumo]

Lord of the Rings Culinary Culture Headcannons bc I'm bored.

This isn't based off of any source from the books this is just vibes. I love food anthropology though so.

Elves: They don't seem huge in agriculture to me, kind of because it seems tedious for them to do every year, forever, till they die. So instead I think they'd embrace a more hunter-gatherer approach, with certain areas cultivated so the plants pretty much take care of themselves. I also think they favour food that can be preserved like dried meat and jams so they don't have to worry about the food spoiling as fast. I've heard lembas bread can be made regardless of location, so I dont think it's a patiular grain, but more of a special process in preparing the grain or smth that's kept secret (a little like nixtamalisation). Additionally: their most elaborate meals tend to have a very long process to make- it's not unusual for preparation for a feast to begin months in advance.

Dwarves: I think they would have an emphasis on group meals, as more work can be achieved if everyone shares one big meal rather than going off to make individual ones. Spending the majority of their time underground, I feel like they eat a lot of tubers. I think they would at least originate from somewhere with geothermal pools, and to reflect this have a lot of boiled and steamed foods, as well as burying food in pots near the pools so the natural heat can cook it (I can't remember what culture but there's evidence of this being done with bread). Additionally, I think they'd be fans of pit ovens, rather than pots or cauldrons- using the heat from their forges to heat up rocks for them. [I think there's less roasting on a spit over a fire because the hear from theor forges would burn the food too quickly.] I feel they'd also be very good at fermenting, with halls dedicated to maturing cheeses or aging meat. Additionally, if they eat meat, it will likely be a large land animal like a boar or deer- not so much birds or fish because they aren't really adapted to hunting them.

Humans: they're honestly pretty standard. They were probably behind a lot of advancements, like preserves, but the majority of the time, it's either porridge or stew. I feel like they have the most diversity from establishment to establishment, for example if you went by the sea, a lot of communities use the salt to preserve their food, but more inland other communities may not have heard even of the method. Obviously the bigger the kitchen, the grander the meals can be and the more equipment they can afford, but villages usually have a community oven they can use for bread and pies. While the food itself is pretty standard, they're also the most adventurous in foraging, inadvertently making a lot of once-poisonous plants edible through natural selection, humans are usually thr first to try out a new food, as well as the first to find ways to make it edible.

Hobbits: as expected from a culture who values meals and food to that extent, hobbits are the culinary geniuses of Middle-Earth. In Ancient Rome, they had advanced cooking utensils, that after the fall of Rome, weren't reinvented till the 18th(?) century: Hobbits are like that. They have utensils for every food in every variety you can think of, and while it's unnecessary to actually have, and perhaps inconvenient to use, it's a point of pride and great social status. Not only do they keep incredibly well-stocked pantries, but they've very keen to experiment with new flavours and have a decent trade route for these reasons. Recipes are also a point of pride, and it's considered unspeakable rude to attempt to recreate someone else's recipe. While there are recipe books of all kinds in every house, family recipe books are often handed down in wills, and kept secret from others. Cooking equipment is also passed down in wills. While they also partake in standard agriculture, hobbits also often have their own vegetable gardens, where they grow their proffered ingredients to work with. In the perspectives of other races, they can be a bit snooty about food, however they're simply very well-educated about the matter. Certain cultures can identify more shades of colour, because in their languages they give each shade a different name- it's sort of like that, but with taste. ((Many hobbits are able to identify the type of salt used in a recipe.)) Additionally, they have several festivals a year where they partake in food competitions. They're big fans of using edible flowers in their flavouring

[sharedyourperilsthorin]

Okay so in the book of The Hobbit, Thorin is know for giving long winded speeches right?

And in the book of Fellowship, Bilbo also is known for his long speeches poems.

What if he picked up thr habit from Thorin and gives long speeches in honor of him?

[writer-of-random-things]

On Muddy Trenches & Middle-earth

I recently finished All Quiet on the Western Front for school and my only thoughts are: A) I should have never gotten emotionally attached to a war story, and B) the book made me understand The Lord of the Rings so much more. I know Tolkien stated the the LOTR was never allegorical, and so it may be; but meaning there is. So obviously, I'm going to write about it: how the 'lost generation' is reflected in Middle-earth, the beauty of comradeship, and maybe most importantly, finding hope in the darkest of times.

Paul Baumer, the protagonist of All Quiet, was goaded by his schoolteacher to enlist for WWI only to find out its realities as everything he loves gets destroyed. Although this is very different from Frodo's story, the emotion, the trauma, and the comradeship both of these characters went through is something that will be remarked on time and time again.

When people talk about Tolkien, WWI, and LOTR, they most often draw the connection between the Dead Marshes and No Man's Land. After all, the Dead Marshes are described as such:

"They all lie in pools, pale faces, deep deep under the dark water...grim faces and evil, and noble faces and sad. Many faces proud and fair, and weeds in their silver hair. But all foul, all rotting, all dead."

Meanwhile, No Man's Land in All Quiet is described as:

"Thus we stagger forward, and into our pierced and shattered souls bores the torturing image of brown earth with the greasy sun and the convulsed and dead soldiers who lie there--it can't be helped--who cry and clutch at our legs as we spring away from them."

The land is barren, people are dead. And the protagonist of both stories have to trudge through the wasteland without looking back. Furthermore, All Quiet Chapter 9 has Paul stabbing a French soldier in a fit of panic, only to have to watch him slowly die. Paul laments:

"Comrade, I did not want to kill you...we always see it too late. Why do they never tell us that you are poor devils like us, that our mothers are just as anxious as ours, and that we have the same fear of death, and the same dying and the same agony--Forgive me, comrade, how could you be my enemy?"

This is quite similar to Sam's reaction when he sees a dead soldier; Tolkien writes,

"It was Sam's first view of battle of Men against Men, and he did not like it much. He was glad he could not see the dead face. He wondered where the man's name was and where he came from; and if he was really evil at heart, or what lies and threats had led him on the long march from home; and if he would rather have stayed there in peace."

The above connection was first brought to my attention in Tolkien in the Twenty-First Century: The Meaning of Middle-Earth Today by Nick Groom, though I selected the quotes myself. Yet that is not all. Before we delve into the beauty of Sam and Frodo's friendship, I want to focus on Chapter 10 of All Quiet, where the soldiers get to guard an abandoned village (with lots of food, no less!) and continue to cook while shells are falling amongst them. They take refuge in a dugout, where they have a feast. Why is this important? Because the dugout is basically a hobbit-hole. A hobbit-hole is cozy, with food and warmth; the ideal of an idyllic home, even if the rest of the world is going to shambles. @moonlightredfern said it best, in a reply to this post. It's a testament to all the cold and miserable days, dreaming of a better time where everything is nice and cozy. It's deciding that the simple joys are worth risking your life for--indeed, that such tiny moments is what makes life worthwhile in the first place.

The same sentiment can be applied to friendship. Tolkien himself said that Sam was "a reflexion of the English soldier, of the privates and batmen in the 1914 war, and recognised as so far superior to myself". Sam's humble origins in the Shire brings into mind a scene of Paul's thoughts when he encounters Russian prisoners:

"They ought to be put to threshing, reaping, and apple picking. They look just as kindly as our own peasants..."

Like the soldiers, Sam could've stayed a gardener for the rest of his life; he comes from the same simple origins they do. Despite all the odds, they both go into battle; more importantly, they both rely on comradeship. And that makes all the difference. For both Paul and Frodo, friendship is what makes their battles bearable. Take Chapter 5 of All Quiet, when Paul is cooking a goose with his friend Kat:

"...we have a more complete communion with one another than even lovers have. We are two men, two minute sparks of life; outside is the night and the circle of death. We sit on the edge of it crouching in danger...in our hearts we are close to one another, and the hour is like the room: flecked over with lights and shadows of our feelings cast by a quiet fire."

Friendship is the flame that keeps out the dark. Gollum only became the creature he was because he was alone while the ring slowly corrupted him. But Frodo had Sam. And Sam would not have grown as much as he did, would not have been a brave as he was, without Frodo. The same is for Paul; when the only thing he has left--his friend Kat--dies, Paul says, "All I know is that Militiaman Stanislaus Katczinsky is dead. Then I know no more." Without friendship, life sparks out. In its fragility, maybe, lies its beauty: that moments and memories between two people are as magnificent as life itself. This connection, in a way, is one of the most important things in both stories.

Finally, I want to touch on my favorite chapter in All Quiet, and its connection to the ending of The Return of the King. In Chapter 7, Paul returns home, only to find out that nothing was the same as it was. Everybody treats war as a glorious thing when Paul has seen what it really is. He feels lost and disconnected:

"I...say over to myself: 'You are at home, you are at home.' But a sense of strangeness cannot leave me, I cannot feel at home amongst these things. There is my mother, there is my sister, there is my case of butterflies, and there the mahogany piano--but I am not myself here. There is a distance, a veil between us."

For refrence, let's just compare this to Frodo's lines near the end of RoTK, shall we?

"But I have been hurt too deeply, Sam. I tried to save Shire, and it has been saved, but not for me."

I don't think I have to explain this much. It speaks to the lost generation of WWI veterans as a whole; after all the pain and torment, battlefields filled not only with blood but also broken dreams, how does one pick up the threads of an old life? It makes sense, then, that both Paul's and Frodo's stories do not have a 'satisfying' ending that readers would like to see. Instead, they portray the reality of trauma and healing--or rather, the absence of it. Yet both tales are not devoid of hope. Paul states that all his experiences would be worthwhile if he could make sure that nobody could experience what he has again:

"A word of command has made these silent figures our enemies; a word of command might transform them into our friends...I am frightened: I dare think this way no more...I will keep them, shut away, until the war is ended. My heart beats fast: this the aim, the great, the sole aim, that I have thought of in the trenches; that I have looked for as the only possibility of experience after this annihilation of human feeling; this is a task that will make life afterward worthy of these hideous years."

In addition, hope has been pervasive throughout the entire LOTR trilogy, even when fear and despair have the upper hand. Hope is not a passive act; it is a decision of will, a choice of a small, unsurprising hobbit that said, "I will take the ring, even if I do not know the way." It is symbolized in Sam carrying Frodo up Mount Doom, of Eowyn and Faramir overcoming their past troubles and finding each other, of a group of people that saved the world because they dared to try.

I think the most important thing to keep in mind when comparing All Quiet on the Western Front and The Lord of the Rings is that they are two works with different purposes, yet their authors lived through similar circumstances. The thematic motifs of friendship, hope, trauma, and violence are still relevant today. Perhaps Paul's hope for the future, as well as the Fellowship's determination to see the quest to be end, can be summarized by the oft-repeated words of Gandalf:

'I wish it need not have happened in my time,' said Frodo. 'So do I,' said Gandalf, 'and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for us to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.'

[animatorweirdo]

Good morning/evening! It's me again, your long ask anon. (You can call me muffin anon if it would be easier for you.) I just read your response to my previous question and, my you are such a sweet person. I will definetly tag you if I can manage to write that idea under all my homework. You have been hugged.

Here is another idea from me.

How do you think the Feanorians (particularly Maedhros and Maglor) would react to a Reader who is a hero course student from My Hero Academia? Reader was the product of a quirk marrigae between a mother who has thr power to create any weapon she sees once, and a father who can get the hang of any wepon he holds for 10 minutes. Reader woulf have both the quirks and this wpuld make them a formidable hero. They can create weapons and use them with ease. (I imagine the 'created' weapons would be kind of like lightsabers). Since MHA is techincally set in a fantasy future version of our world maybe Reader has read Tolkien's works and are familiar with them. Maybe they were fighting a villian when a chikd whose quirks happens to be something that sends poeple to other dimensions for an unknown period of time has a quirk awakening and accidently sends Reader to Arda. Reader spends quite a long time there but does not age. Reader landing just in time for The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings would also be great as Reader would get to partake in one of- if no the best- fantasy stories. But what do you think? I would love to hear your thoughts. Thank you for reading through yet another long ask. I wish you a pleasant day/night.

Sorry, but now I am only imagining what kind of a menace reader must have been as a toddler with a quirk like that 😂 Their parents definitely had to confiscate all the weapons in the house so their child wouldn't accidentally hurt themselves. Imagine that one vine kid who ran around with a knife --- reader is definitely that.

Now ending up in Middle Earth would be a wild ride for them. I don't see much sense in not aging because aren't the kids in MHA technically teenagers too? It would be pretty problematic for reader to get things done since everyone would treat them as a child for a century or two. However, I can see reader make good use of their quirk during Hobbit or LOTR. No more arrows, reader just whips out some more, need a knife, they just pull out one out of their hands, missing weapons for more people, reader will turn themselves into a mass weapon factory and make sure everyone got a weapon for themselves. People would most likely be freaked out by a kid having such an ability, but can't deny how useful it is during their time of need.

[yelenapines]

MF YOURE TELLING ME TO REWD THE WHOLE ASS BOOK THR HOBBIT 😭😭😭😭😭 IM CRYING

okay but thanks for the other recs im gonna check them out also i love everything alicr oseman 🫶🏽 love your pfp so mych omg it’s almost 3 so goodnight user yelenapines

MY DUDE IDK I LOOKED AT MY BOOKSHELF IT WAS THERE AND SKSKSKSL 😭😭

and yess Alice oseman is great and ty ty gn (says I after waking up)

[delicatenightfury]

Star of the Mountain: Chapter 14

Warnings: fluff, angst, canon-level violence, spoilers for the Hobbit films

Pairing: OC x Thorin Oakenshield

Beta'd By: @mistys-blerbz

Author's Note: please do not steal my work! I do not own the Hobbit or the characters, but I do own my OCs and the parts of the plot that are not part of the movies. I have worked very hard on this fic. Please be respectful and do not steal.

Please comment, reblog, and like!

Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

“Search them!”

Oreliell’s eyes narrowed slightly at the elves surrounding the company. Once the dwarves had moved off the path, the sisters knew bad things were going to happen. They had seen the spider webs and had heard the stories of the giants that infested the forest. They had chosen to go on ahead and search for the king’s guards. It hadn’t taken long thankfully, but apparently long enough because the company had been captured. The sisters caught the attention of the guards and had quickly taken off away from them, ignoring their shouts to ‘halt.’ What they hadn’t anticipated was the elven guard holding the company as prisoners and searching them.

“Is this how the elves of Mirkwood treat travelers?” Oreliell asked her sister.

“Stay calm, sister. We are passing through their kingdom.”

She glanced at her sister before sighing. Two guards approached them, stern looks on their faces.

“{Either disarm yourself or we shall do so for you,}” one said.

Oreliell again looked at her sister before handing over her sword and removing her daggers from their hiding places. As she finished disarming herself, she glanced over the other guards. The leader, a young blond ellon, approached a red-haired elleth. 

“{Are the spiders dead?}” he asked.

“{Yes, but more will come. They’re growing bolder.}”

“{My lord!}” someone else called.

The blond approached the one who called to him, Thorin’s sword in hand. He took the blade and looked it over.

“{This is an ancient Elvish blade. Forged by my kin.}” He looked at the company, especially Thorin, and narrowed his eyes. “Where did you get this?”

“It was given to me,” Thorin said.

The elf pointed the sword at Thorin.

“Not just a thief, but a liar as well.”

“{It is no lie, my lord,}” Oreliell called, gaining his attention. Oreliell could feel the company’s eyes on her as well, but she kept her eyes on the elf. “{The blade was given to him after being found in a troll hoard just south of Rivendell. It was not stolen by us.}”

“{Us? You are with these dwarves.}”

“{They are our traveling companions.}”

The elf narrowed his eyes again at them, but seemed skeptical of her words.

“{Take them!}” he ordered.

The guards began pushing the dwarves down the path. Oreliell shrugged off the guard that tried to touch her and moved herself forward. She stepped behind Thorin in line, keeping her eyes on the half in front of her while Vedis watched the other half.

“Oreliell, Vedis,” Thorin whispered. “Where’s Bilbo?”

Oreliell’s eyes widened and glanced around. The halfling was nowhere in sight.

“Vedis?”

“I do not see him.”

Valar, let him be all right.

They were led through the woods to a stone bridge and large elven gates. Oreliell did not look at or acknowledge any of the elves that stood guard. While she grew more and more annoyed at the dwarves’ rough comments, she knew it would get them nowhere. They had taken a long time to accept her and her sister, so she knew that tension would be high while they were in Mirkwood. Best to stay silent.

The company was led down to the dungeons and one by one, pushed into cells. Most were kept separately, but some were locked together. Oreliell stepped into her cell peacefully, but glared at the guard who shut and locked the door.

The only one not locked in a cell was Thorin. He was held back by a pair of guards, made to watch his friends be imprisoned before being taken away to talk to the king. Oreliell tried to catch his eye, but had little luck.

The minute the guards were gone, the company started throwing themselves at their cell doors. The dwarves kicked and hit the metal, trying their best to knock them down.

“Leave it!” Balin cried. “There’s no way out. This is no orc dungeon. These are the halls of the Woodland Realm. No one leaves here but by the king’s consent.”

Oreliell sat down by the door, leaning her back against the cold stone.

“Is everyone all right?” she asked. “No one is hurt?”

Many mumbled responses that they were fine came from the surrounding cells, as well as a comment about only their pride being wounded. She couldn’t help but smile at that. Her head rested against the metal door and she shut her eyes. There was nothing that could be done until Thorin came back from meeting with the king.

They did not have to wait long. Oreliell glanced over when she heard guards approaching with Thorin in tow. He was struggling against them. Oreliell watched as they roughly pushed him into a cell.

“Did he offer you a deal?” Balin asked.

“He did,” Thorin confirmed. “I told him he could go îsh kakhfê ai’d dûr rugnu! Him and all his kin!”

Oreliell sighed, bowing her head.

“Well, that’s it then. A deal was our only hope.”

“Not our only hope.”

Oreliell looked toward Thorin’s cell. The angle was rough, but she could get a glimpse of him standing in front of the metal.

“Thorin,” she called. She watched him adjust his position so he could see her as well. She smiled at him, not sure if he could actually see it or not. “{All will be well.}”

She saw him nod before sitting down as well. The dungeon was quiet for a long time, minus the occasional mutters of the dwarves. 

Oreliell had nearly fallen asleep when she heard the clicking on armor. She lifted her head as it drew closer and saw a guard stand in front of her cell. He put a key into the lock and opened the door.

“{Come with me.}”

Oreliell stood up and went to the door. She could hear the dwarves starting to shuffle  around their own cells, probably trying to get a look at what was happening.

“Vedis?”

“I am here.” Oreliell looked over to her right, relaxing when she saw her sister standing on the landing. Behind her stood another guard.

“Any idea where they are taking us?”

Vedis shook her head slightly. The first guard shut Oreliell’s cell door then looked between the sisters.

“{You will follow us,}” he said.

Neither woman argued as they were guided back up the stairs. They could hear the dwarves calling after them, demanding to know where they were being taken. Another voice shouted at them to quiet, but that did little other than rile the company up more. Their concern and protests almost made Oreliell smile.

“/Be calm,\” Oreliell called to them in Khuzdul. She noticed the guard in front of her tense slightly at the language coming from her mouth. She could also see the looks of shock on several of the dwarves’ faces. “/We will be fine.\”

The company seemed to quiet down as the sisters were escorted from the dungeon. They were led down a series of halls. Neither had been to Mirkwood before, so the journey felt slightly disorienting and intimidating. However, they refused to show it.

They were led to a large set of doors made of beautiful oak, much like the rest of the kingdom. The first guard knocked loudly. They heard a voice call for them to enter. The guard opened the door and motioned the sisters inside. They moved forward, and the door was pulled shut behind them. Oreliell took a moment to glance around; they had been brought to a large sitting room where one might expect a king to take his meetings. A long table sat nearby, with comfortable-looking chairs surrounding it.

“When I heard that a company of dwarves was trampling through my kingdom, I’m sure you can imagine my surprise,” a voice said from the far side of the room. Glancing over, Oreliell noted that the king’s back was turned as he poured himself a glass of wine. “But when I heard that two elleths were amongst them… well, I’m sure you can understand my desire to meet you.”

He finally turned around, silver robes flowing around his feet. He studied them for several moments before his eyes picking up his wine glass.

“May I interest either of you in a glass of wine?” he asked

“No, thank you, your highness.”

King Thranduil glided to the table and sat down at the head. He motioned for the sisters to sit down. They exchanged brief looks before moving, taking seats at the table. Thranduil studied them for a long moment and took a sip of his wine. 

“What are your names?”

“Oreliell and Vedis.”

“And what is your business with Thorin Oakenshield?” he questioned.

“We are traveling with his company, my lord,” Oreliell replied.

“Were you coerced?”

“No. We travel with them willingly.”

Thranduil scoffed a laugh.

“Willingly? I find that rather hard to believe, given Thorin’s rather obvious distaste for our kind.”

“Perhaps not all of our kind. Some, but not all.”

Vedis nudged Oreliell with her foot, a movement that did not escape the elven king’s eye. He looked at her.

“Do you have something to say on the matter, Vedis?” he asked. She looked at him and narrowed her eyes slightly. Vedis shook her head. “No, please. I want to hear what you have to say.”

It was Oreliell’s turn to narrow her eyes. His tone was a mixture between mocking and edging to try and get a reaction.

“Even if Vedis had anything additional to say, she is not able to.”

“No?” He sounded curious, yet annoyed.

“No. She doesn’t speak.”

Vedis shifted her scarf so Thranduil could see some of the black scars. His eyes widened at the sight.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“Nothing that concerns you. And it had nothing to do with the company, before the thought even crosses your mind.”

“It did not. I know that those dwarves have no magic abilities and therefore would have no capability of inflicting such an injury.”

Vedis readjusted her scarf and glanced at her sister as she did.

“He is rather cold,” she said, “and bored. It is almost as if he is not truly interested in conversing with us.”

Oreliell hummed with a nod. Thranduil looked at her.

“What?”

“Vedis was just observing how bored you seem to be.”

“She speaks to you?”

“And only me.”

“How come?”

“The magic required takes a lot of energy if performed to communicate with someone she is not connected with. As her sister, our bond is deeper and thus easier.”

His gaze shifted between the two of them before accepting the response. He reclined further in his chair, seemingly bored. Oreliell almost chuckled at the sound of Vedis’ soft scoff.

“Your leader seemed rather agitated earlier when I spoke with him.” Oreliell resisted an eye roll. “I assume that he told you he refused my help.”

“Not quite in those words, but yes.”

“And what are your thoughts on the matter?”

“I cannot say that I am surprised at his response, given the… unfortunate history between your two kingdoms.”

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed.

“You know not what you speak.”

“I know the history between the kingdoms, King Thranduil. I know that you abandoned the dwarves of Erebor simply because King Thror did not give you the jewels you desired. You gathered your entire army and brought them to Erebor, just to turn away.”

“I was not going to risk the lives of my people for a group of selfish dwarves.”

Oreliell scoffed.

“So you punish a race for the actions of a sick king?”

“The King Beneath the Mountain was warned time and again, by myself and others, what his greed would bring about. The dwarves of Erebor continued to dig for riches. In the end, they practically brought about their own demise.”

The sisters froze in shock at his words, before glaring at him.

“Are you saying that they brought the dragon upon themselves?”

Thranduil shrugged.

“Take it as you will. Like I said, they were warned.”

“Is that your response to all of those that have been affected by dragon fire? That they asked for that to happen? Did the dwarves of Erebor ask to be pushed out of their home? Did the people of Dale ask to be burned alive and left to ruin? Did we ask for a dragon to attack our home and wipe everything we ever knew and loved from existence?” She was nearly shouting and Vedis had to grip her arm to keep her planted in her seat. “The bad choices of a few do not call for the punishment and suffering of the many.”

Thranduil studied her for a long moment.

“If you were not coerced, then how came you to join such a company of dwarves? Or, rather simply put, what is your relationship with Thorin Oakenshield?”

“We are companions and close friends, my lord.” She couldn’t help but let sarcasm drip through her words. “We met on the road years ago and became close as a result.”

“Do not lie to me, girl.”

Oreliell narrowed her eyes.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’ve been around a long time. I can tell when someone is lying to me.”

“You’re not much older than us.”

“Perhaps, but I have been around long enough to know when one person has… affection for another.” His eyes drifted down her throat ever so slightly. Before she could properly respond, Thranduil stood up from his chair and moved to the window to gaze outside. “I will offer you a deal. Convince Thorin to return what is rightfully mine and I will release your company to continue on your journey.”

Oreliell looked at Vedis, her hand going to the collar of her shirt. Vedis took her other hand, squeezing slightly for comfort. Oreliell watched as she leaned forward, picking up a blank piece of paper and a quill from the inkwell. She began to write.

“What are you doing?” Oreliell asked.

“I am giving him our response.” She glanced at Oreliell. “Trust me.”

Thranduil glanced over his shoulder, having heard the scratch of the quill on paper. Vedis finished her writing, returned the quill to its place, and stood. She appeared confident as she approached Thranduil, paper in hand. She stopped in front of him, staring at him for a long moment before handing him the paper. He took it slowly and watched her return to Oreliell’s side. He watched her place her hand on Oreliell’s shoulder then looked down at the paper in hand.

The sisters watched him closely. His expression changed only slightly. He looked at them.

“This is your answer?” he asked. Vedis nodded. Thranduil sighed. “Very well. Guards!” Two guards entered through the doors, standing at attention. “Escort these two back to their cells.”

Oreliell stood up as the guards approached. She gave Thranduil one last look before allowing the guard to lead her out of the room.

“Vedis?”

“Yes?”

“What did you write?”

“That we are loyal to Thorin Oakenshield, King Beneath the Mountain, and we stand with him.”

Oreliell smiled a little.

The sisters were guided down the stairs into the dungeon, quickly gaining the attention of the company. The dwarves rushed to their cell doors, trying to get a glimpse of them and calling their names.

“Are you all right?”

“What happened?”

“Did you see the king?”

“/We are all right,\” Oreliell said in Khuzdul, loud enough for them to hear. “/There is no need to worry.\”

Oreliell nodded to Vedis, who was escorted further down to her cell, while Oreliell stepped into her own. She watched the guard lock the door and walk away. When they were gone, she stepped forward and looked out at the few dwarves within her line of sight.

“Oreliell,” Thorin said. “What happened?”

“The king summoned us. Like you, he offered us a deal, but it was not our deal to take. We chose to stand by our king.”